We were lying on the couch. His head was on my chest and he had his arms wrapped around my waist, his breaths steady. I absently began running my fingers through his hair. He sighed contently. He began to rub his thumb in circles on my hip. The circles stopped and I looked down at him. He had a slight smile on his face but he was asleep.
I took the time to study his, now innocent looking, face. His lips were a pale pink and were chapped from constantly licking them and biting them when he was nervous or angry. His eyelashes were long and acted as extra protection to the ice blue orbs hidden behind his eyelids. Whenever I stared into them it was like getting lost in an arctic sea. I memorized the location of every scar on his face that came about from many mishaps throughout his childhood or early adulthood. Every scar was beautiful, just like him. I could not believe I could call this gorgeous human being mine.
I started to let my eyes close as I studied him. We often did this. He would fall asleep on my chest as we cuddled on the couch and I would soon join him. As I stared at him though, I got this feeling in the pit of my stomach. It was a good, warming feeling. It was then that I realized, I love him. I love everything about him and I love being with him and he was just perfect. This is the man I want to spend my life with.
“I love you.” I whispered to him, knowing he couldn’t hear me. I started to let sleep overtake me, but not before I heard him whisper, “I love you too.”